


One Thousand and One Sleepless Nights

by toyokojsp



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Royalty, desert!AU, i'll throw fluff in there too, lots of relationships, lots of story, other possible characters - Freeform, probably smut later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:38:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5083393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyokojsp/pseuds/toyokojsp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princes and Sultans. Servants and masters. Friends and enemies. The outside world is completely unknown to Tsukishima Kei, Prince of Karasuno, but nothing could have prepared him for what lay outside the palace gates--both the adventure, and the heartache.</p>
<p>Mainly a KurooTsukki fic but plenty of other relationships thrown in there as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Moon Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so basically this is my very first fic and is inspired by several things. 1) I love the Disney movie Aladdin, 2) I love how the end theme of Free! Iwatobi Swim Club is done (you know, the ending where they’re in the desert and there’s an oasis and some niiiiice outfits) and 3) I love KurooTsukki, so there you have it. PLEASE NOTE this is not historically accurate, just a sort of Aladdin setting type AU. Idk. I hope you enjoy it, constructive criticism always welcome!!

Long ago, a little boy was born to a great sultan. The sultan’s family lineage was known for its shocking gold hair, whispered to be like that of a lion’s. However, this little boy was born with even stranger characteristics—he was as pale as moonlight, with eyes to match his hair. The people of the sultan’s kingdom, Karasuno, rejoiced in the healthy birth of the second prince, and said that his ethereal appearance was a sign of divine blessing. The high priests agreed with this sentiment, and the second prince was kept in the palace, carefully protected and cherished by all.

  
_As cherished as any prisoner can be,_ Tsukishima thought. He was in his the palace library, surrounded by scrolls he had already read through a billion times, doing his best to hide from the ungodly heat and his math tutor. Yachi-san was an intelligent person and a wonderful teacher (if a bit prone to being over-anxious), but, as Tsukishima had literally nothing else to do, he had completed the math lessons they were currently going over when he was eight years old. His father insisted his continuation of lessons, however, most likely for the sake of appearances. In return, Tsukishima either hid from his tutors or outdebated them on their own subjects—depending on the amount of energy he had that day. And on that particular day, the sun was too merciless for any heated conversation. Tsukishima turned to a well-worn scroll, one detailing the position of summer stars. The one subject he could never tire of was astronomy, with its endlessly fascinating concepts and graphs. Tsukishima had probably gotten his love for stars from his mother, who would sit with him when he was young and point out the heavens to the young boy. Night was the only time Tsukishima was allowed out, anyway. His brow furrowed as he remembered why he was in the situation he was in anyway. Due to his pale skin, he was only allowed outside at night for the longest time, and even when he was granted permission for daytime it was only within the confines of the gardens. Restriction after restriction after restriction, and all because of his stupid paleness and the stupid priests and his stupid—

  
A poke between his eyebrows startled Tsukishima out of his train of thought.

  
“You’ll give yourself wrinkles, Tsukki.” a familiar voice chimed.

  
Tsukishima looked up, and was greeted by his favorite warm smile. Yamaguchi was Tsukishima’s servant and lifelong friend. As they had been born around the same time, Yamaguchi to a palace servant, it made sense that he would be Tsukishima’s personal attendant and companion. Tsukishima considered Yamaguchi to be the only upside to being confined to the palace. He was the only one who could soften the second prince’s heart, and Tsukishima loved him dearly, as did everyone in the palace. He worked hard, was cheerful and energetic, and soothed the moody prince, a feat not easily done by anyone else. Many times Tsukishima had considered drawing Yamaguchi closer, tracing his lips along his sun kissed face, so opposite to Tsukishima’s untouched skin, holding him in his arms…

  
“What’s the matter, oh great Moon-sama?” Yamaguchi teased, lightly laughing at Tsukishima’s resulting expression. Tsukishima hated anything to do with his “Moon Prince” appearance, and Yamaguchi knew it. As he watched his friend chuckle to himself, Tsukishima remembered why he had never consummated a physical relationship with Yamaguchi. He knew Yamaguchi only saw him as a friend, but if he asked he would do anything Tsukishima wanted. The one thing Tsukishima did not want was to force Yamaguchi into a relationship using his status. He could never rest easy in such love, not knowing if the other party was happy or just obeying orders. And so, Tsukishima restrained himself. He never touched the concubines, male and female, provided to him, as he felt no attraction to any of them. No one had ever caught his eye—no one but Yamaguchi. God, I’ve got it bad, Tsukishima thought irritably.

By now Yamaguchi looked genuinely concerned, furrowing his own brow as Tsukishima’s lack of responses.

  
“Sorry,” Tsukishima muttered, coming out of his daze, “the heat must be getting to me a bit.”

  
“Do you need some water? A towel?” Yamaguchi started to list a billion other things that could possibly combat fatigue and heat stroke, but was interrupted when the library door burst open.

  
“Prince Kei! You have a summons from your father!” yelled the court messenger.

  
There were several reasons Tsukishima and Yamaguchi stood in shock for a few moments. One was the overwhelming energy of the court messenger, who was practically bouncing in place after delivering his news. There’s no way he’s human, Tsukishima thought. There is no way a human could have so much energy after running across the palace on a day like this. Just as he was beginning to collect himself, what the messenger had actually said began to sink in. A summons? From the sultan? The only other time Tsukishima had received a summons was when mother had—

  
“What time does the sultan wish to see Kei?” Yamaguchi asked, the seriousness reflected in his voice.

  
“As soon as possible, Yama!” the orange ball of energy responded.

  
“Thank you, Hinata. I’ll prepare the prince.”

  
Hinata bounded from the room, and Tsukishima felt himself being led by his hand out of the library and down the corridor by Yamaguchi. Normally, Tsukishima would have been secretly overjoyed for Yamaguchi to be touching him like this, but the messenger’s words still rang in his head. His father never saw him; he was always too busy running the kingdom. Not that Tsukishima took it personally, as he was the second prince and no longer a child, so he wasn’t going to throw a fit over lack of attention. But something about the summons made his stomach twist in knots. The first and only time he had been called to see his father had resulted in Tsukishima receiving the worst news in his life.  
By now, the two had reached Tsukishima’s room. Yamaguchi swiftly undressed Tsukishima, pulling him out of his lighter robes, wiping him down with a cool cloth, and dressing him in heavier, rich, ornate clothes meant for political meetings. Yamaguchi hummed to himself, and Tsukishima found himself relaxing in spite of everything. It would all be okay—Yamaguchi was there, his sunshine was by his side. He allowed himself to breathe a little easier, clear his mind, and focus.

  
“All done, Tsukki. Shall we head to the chambers?”

  
Tsukishima hummed his affirmation in the back of his throat, and the two started across the palace, Yamaguchi falling in step behind Tsukishima. As they neared the doors of the main hall, where the sultan held court, Tsukishima spotted a familiar figure, clad in white robes, head covered in shining silvery hair.

  
“Priest Sugawara?” Tsukishima’s tone conveyed his surprise.

  
The young priest turned around, and greeted Tsukishima with a warm smile.

  
“Ah, Prince Kei. I see you were summoned as well. It’s good to see you again.”

  
Of all the priests, the only one that Tsukishima could not bring himself to dislike was Sugawara. Suga was the youngest priest in the palace, and had never been a part of the decision to lock Tsukishima away from the world, so the prince really had no reason to hate him in the first place. Not only that, but Sugawara was so damn nice that Tsukishima couldn’t even be cold to him, the way he was with most people.

  
“Any idea why we’ve been summoned, Sugawara-sama?” Tsukishima ventured.

  
“None.” The normally cheery priest grimaced. “The sultan did ask for me specifically, however, instead of just a general representative from the temple.”

  
“I see.” Tsukishima mused, more to himself than the priest. What was his father planning to tell the two of them?

  
Tsukishima’s thoughts were interrupted when two servants opened the doors and bowed the prince and the priest inside. Yamaguchi stayed back, as was customary in meetings such as this, and Tsukishima felt the knots start to twist in his stomach again. How he longed for the Yamaguchi to stand beside him as he entered the room, and greeted the scene before him.

  
\-----

  
The air inside the chamber was dense, heavy with anticipation and swirling with whispers until the moment those inside spotted Tsukishima. All rose and bowed to the second prince, before sitting once more and shooting nervous glances at the head of the table, where the sultan himself sat.

  
Tsukishima lowered his head to his father, conscientious of the court rules and etiquette. Suga simply bowed his head briefly, as priests did when acknowledging royalty.

  
“Kei.” His father’s voice, low and calm, reached Tsukishima at the head of the chamber. He lifted his head.

  
It was only when he sighted the people around the table that he began to recognize the level of seriousness the summons held. Not only was the sultan himself present, but his two advisors, Ukai-san and Takeda-san, were there as well. The court messenger from earlier, Hinata, stood behind the sultan’s shoulder, looking very, very nervous. Seated along the length of the table were many familiar faces—General Daichi, commander of the sultan’s armies, seated on the sultan’s left along with Lieutenant Kageyama. On his father’s left side was Akiteru, first prince of the kingdom and Kei’s older brother. Sugawara-sama sat between Daichi and Kageyama, causing Daichi to startle and scoot closer to the sultan. Akiteru waved Tsukishima over to the empty seat next to him, just two seats down from his father.

  
“Now then,” began the sultan, “concerning the matter at hand—“

  
He did not get to complete his thought, because at that moment the doors burst open once more, and in rushed Nishinoya-san, advisor of the war council, followed by Asahi-san, his second in command.

  
“They’ll never allow it!” Nishinoya yelled out, not even bothering with formalities. “You know there’s no way the priests will let him go, we have to send someone else—“

  
The sultan raised his hand, silencing the small man. “We have no one else who can go, Yu.” The sultan said calmly, before turning to the tall man. “Asahi? What do you think?”

  
Asahi-san blushed, opening his mouth and stammering a bit, clearly uncomfortable being put on the spot.

  
“I-I think that if we want to avoid…confrontation with Nekoma, the best course of action to take is to send Prince Kei.”

  
Tsukishima paused, mind reeling, trying to fit the pieces together before turning back to his father, waiting for an explanation.

  
The sultan remained quiet for a moment, and those in the room seemed to hold a collective breath as they waited for him to speak. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision with himself, and raised his head to look at Tsukishima.

  
“Kei.”

  
“Yes, father?”

  
“I need you to leave the palace.”


	2. The Moon Falls From the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Sorry, I feel like these chapters are really long but I hope you’re enjoying them!! Point of view will shift occasionally. There is a lot of Yamaguchi involved but I promise it's to further the plot, this really will end up being all about Kuroo and Tsukishima

Sand. Sand. Sand.

  
A merchant with his camels.

  
Sand.

  
Unbearable heat.

  
Tsukishima had always longed for life outside the walls of the palace, but he wondered to himself if he would have spent all those years longing for freedom if he knew how hot the desert could be, or how smelly camels were. He sat on a carriage, situated on the hump of the camel, just big enough for him to ride in. The carriage was covered in layers of material—one of the many conditions the priests had required to agree to let him make this trip.

  
Tsukishima could hear another one of those conditions huffing angrily outside his carriage, and he smirked in spite of himself. Lieutenant Kageyama was required to accompany him on this trip, along with several other armed guards, most disguised as slaves—too many guards might offend the sultan of Nekoma.

  
Ah. Nekoma. Where Tsukishima was headed for his first visit outside of the kingdom.

  
He recalled the conversation he’d had with his father the afternoon before his departure.

  
_“Leave?” Tsukishima was so startled he could barely muster the single word._

  
_“Yes. On a diplomatic visit, to the kingdom of Nekoma. For at least a month, maybe longer depending on how things go.” As he said the last sentence, he glanced at Ukai-san, seated toward the opposite end of the table._

  
_Tsukishima couldn’t quite process what his father was saying._

  
_“I get to—you want me to—me?” He stuttered out._

  
_The sultan smiled. “Yes, you. Normally I would send Akiteru, but he will be present at the forging of a peace treaty with Aobajosai, and I have to remain here to make sure Shiratorizawa doesn’t make any moves against us. There’s no way either of us can go, but if at least one of the royal family isn’t present, there’s a good chance the sultan will be offended, and Nekoma has always been a quick kingdom to jump on the offense. That leaves you, Kei.”_

  
_“…I see.” Tsukishima managed._

  
_“You’ll need to leave as soon as possible. This is a fairly easy trip, as you are simply going to represent Karasuno at the celebration of the kingdom’s recent victory over Wakutani.” An “enemy of my enemy is my friend” sort of alliance, Tsukishima thought._

  
_His brother clapped him on the back as they left the chambers. “Baby bird gets to finally spread his wings. Don’t get a sunburn, moon boy.” He teased, before turning to prepare for his own trip._

  
They left the following morning, Tsukishima’s heart soaring as they departed from the castle gates, Yamaguchi on a camel in the caravan, gifts for the sultan carried by servants around him.

  
_If my heart was soaring then, it’s probably in my stomach by now._

  
The heat was sickening, and the swaying motion of the camel along with the stench wasn’t helping. Tsukishima had to sleep in a tent pitched every night, shivering in his blankets (he had no idea the temperature dropped so greatly at night in the desert). At the same time, he was…excited. Unbearably so. Sure, all he had seen every time he dared to peek out of the curtains was a lot of sand, but this sand was taking him to new places. He would deal with the heat and the stench for a while longer.

  
He heard the caravan called to a halt, and his own camel stopped moving. The curtain parted, and a hand thrust a water pouch through. Tsukishima smirked, knowing full well who the hand belonged to.

  
He tugged the water bottle away from Kageyama. “How are you enjoying the trip, Lietenant?” He asked, snark evident in his voice. Neither Tsukishima nor Kageyama got along with people very well, and they certainly didn’t get along with each other, so Tsukishima took every chance he had to bait him.

  
Kageyama merely grunted in response. Tsukishima’s smirk widened.

  
“I’m terribly sorry you had to accompany me.” Kageyama’s face darkened. “But, who knows? If you’re lucky they might send a certain court messenger out to Nekoma with some urgent news. And if you’re really lucky, they’ll let him spend a few nights. And if you’re really, really lucky—“

  
Tsukishima was interrupted by Kageyama’s call to the caravan to continue their onward march.

  
Although he would never say it, Tsukishima was a bit jealous of Kageyama. He was so obvious about his little crush, everyone except the dolt he had the crush on knew it. He was jealous of Kageyama’a ability to display his love in such a way, without worrying about the pressures he was putting on the other party…

  
Tsukishima interrupted his own train of thought before it could make him moody. He leaned back into the carriage, allowing the swaying to rock him to sleep.

  
\-----

  
They reached the palace of the Sultan the next afternoon.

  
There was plenty of fanfare as they entered the city, as there would always be when royalty arrived in town. Tsukishima peeked out of the curtains only a few times, because every time he did, those lining the road would cry out in shock or excitement.

  
“I saw him, I saw the Moon Prince!” they yelled to each other.

  
“You’re famous, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi teased.

  
Normally, such things would have been enough to make Tsukishima keep his head in his carriage, but what was going on in the city was far more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. The buildings were accented with rich reds and blacks, and the people of the city tossed flowers at the nobles coming in, and girls performed intricate dances to the beat of street drummers. It was colorful and breathtaking and alive. Tsukishima had never seen anything like it—with a pang of sadness he wondered if his own city had such festivals, but he had never known of them, kept as he was within the palace walls.

  
When they finally reached the palace, Tsukishima noted that they were the last ones to arrive. He was lead to the inner court to greet the other nobles and the sultan himself, when he noticed subjects in the court yards looking at him, not even hiding the way the whispered to each other about the prince of Karasuno.

  
Tsukishima would have given anything to be back on the back of that smelly camel, hidden from the curious eyes.

  
Kageyama noticed his discomfort immediately.

  
“They can’t help but to look. The fact that you’ve been hidden away for eighteen years doesn’t help their curiosity either.”

  
“Thank you for your helpful remarks, Lieutenant.” Tsukishima said snidely, even more peevish than usual due to his anxiety.

  
“He’s just trying to help.” A warm, familiar voice said at Tsukishima shoulder. Tsukishima felt the tension melt, and immediately relaxed. Yamaguchi was here with him—everything would be okay. He was even allowed in the chambers today, to help present gifts to the sultan, and he had dressed for the occasion—simple green robes, clean, relaxed, humble enough to fit a servant but somehow more attractive on Yamaguchi than anything could ever be. Tsukishima swallowed hard and looked away.

  
The group from Karasuno entered the court room, and Tsukishima understood for the first time the true meaning of festivities. Nobles, princes, diplomats, and even a priest or two sat around, drunk off their asses or getting there. Girls danced for the men, and servants wove in and out of group of people, each performing and intricate dance of their own, struggling to balance food and drinks and avoiding collisions with other people. Even the stiff faced guards around the room seemed fairly relaxed. All the music, talk, and dance, however, ceased the moment Tsukishima walked into the room.

  
The weight of what seemed to be thousands of eyes fell on him. Tsukishima kept walking, his head held high, to the center of the room and the sultan’s seat. There his eyes fell upon an old man with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Tsukishima bowed his head, while the rest of his party knelt before the sultan.

  
“Prince Kei, second son of the Tsukishima, Prince of Karasuno.”

  
Tsukishima kept his head bowed until he was addressed.

  
“So this is Tsukishima’s precious jewel. Lift your head, Moon Prince.”

  
Tsukishima did as he was told, and locked eyes, unwavering, with the old sultan.

  
“Nekomata. I come as the delegate from Karasuno to wish you congratulations on your recent victory over—“

  
He was interrupted by a hearty laugh, and, taken aback, stared at the sultan.

  
“Kei, my boy, no need for all that. Present what you brought me and join the party.”

  
“Ah. Yes.” Tsukishima waved the servants forward, laden with fine cloth, incense, and spices. As Yamaguchi stepped up to lay the gift he was carrying at the sultan’s feet, a young man on the sultan’s left, quiet until this moment, leaned forward and caught Yamaguchi’s wrist.

  
“Are you a gift as well?” He asked, leaning in toward Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi stuttered and blushed but did not pull back, probably for fear of offending the noble. The man was quite beautiful, mischievous brown eyes and windswept locks to match. Very beautiful, and Tsukishima was two seconds away from messing up that pretty face when a shorter, serious man stepped forward and grabbed the beauty by the shoulder.

  
“Enough, Oikawa. Don’t tease so much. You’ve had enough to drink.” He said, tone quite serious and a bit concerned.

  
Oikawa stiffened at the touch, and for a moment looked like he might do something irrational, but the look was gone from his eyes in a moment and he simply shrugged the hand off.

  
“I’m just playing, Iwa-chan. No need to be so serious!” he ended his sentence in a light giggle.

  
By this time, Yamaguchi had fled to fall in behind Tsukishima’s other servants, and Tsukishima had calmed the rage that had bubbled up in him the moment someone else touched Yamaguchi. Another voice, from the right of Nekomata, spoke out.

  
“You’ll have to excuse the idiot prince of Aobajosai. He’s mastered the art of courtship and practices it on anything that moves.” This voice dripped sarcasm, but not Tsukishima’s cold, hard sarcasm—a friendlier, affable type.

  
Tsukishima turned and stared at the man on Nekomata’s right. He was draped across several cushions, glass in his hand, lazily sipping the amber liquid. He was dressed in rich, detailed robes but wore them in such a relaxed way that they almost seemed more like bed clothes. His hair was jet black, and stuck up in crazy directions, and his smile stretched across his face, grinning at his own joke. Everything about the man reminded Tsukishima of the exotic cats that had sometimes entertained at palace parties. Tsukishima met his eyes, and a shiver raced down his spine. Every cell in his body screamed that he should run, that he was in definite danger, but he stayed rooted to the spot. These were the eyes of a predator that had just spotted his prey.

  
\----

  
Yamaguchi’s wrist burned.

  
He could still feel those fingers on his skin. The person’s hand had been warm, so warm, but it shouldn’t have been enough to affect him like it did.

  
Prince Oikawa was beautiful. His smooth skin was tanned evenly, in a way Yamaguchi would never be able to achieve with his freckles, and his eyes danced, whether as a part of his character or from the drink Yamaguchi did not know. But there was something else behind those eyes, something almost…heavy. Dark.

  
Yamaguchi shook his head in an attempt to clear it. What on earth was he daydreaming about? He turned his attention back to Tsukishima, standing at the head of the floor. Tsukishima was beautiful as well, just in a different way. His skin was so pale, almost transparent, and his eyes were richly colored and seemed to analyze and understand everything in an instant. At this moment, however, Tsukki was terrified. No one but Yamaguchi would know it, because no one knew Tsukki like Yamaguchi did. Behind that calm, regal expression there was a boy who had just been thrown into a world he had never known and expected to take care of things he knew nothing about. But Tsukki was Tsukki, and he would pull through.

  
Yamaguchi felt his chest tighten. He had always loved Tsukki, in a way no one else could. Tsukki only opened up to him. Yamaguchi felt a strange need to protect Tsukishima, although he was plenty capable and had far more power than Yamaguchi could ever dream of. Yamaguchi had convinced himself long ago to give up on loving Tsukishima in any way other than a servant should long ago.

  
He glanced up, and caught Oikawa staring at him from the sultan’s left. Unabashedly. Their eyes met, and Yamaguchi felt his face heat up as Oikawa winked at him. The wink resulted in an elbow thrown from the serious looking general at his side, to which he pouted in response before turning to get more drink. Yamaguchi found he couldn’t stop watching the prince of Aobajosai, no matter how hard he tried, so when Oikawa glanced back at him a few minutes later he found himself unable to look away once more. Oikawa smiled in such a way that caused Yamaguchi’s heart to seize beating for a few moments before resuming its frantic pounding. _Stupid, dumb, flirty prince,_ Yamaguchi thought, _stupid, stupid, stupid._

  
\-----

  
After the introductions and gift-giving ended, Tsukishima was guided to his personal chambers and told when and where the banquet would be held later that night. His first instinct was to crawl onto the bed and pass out, but Yamaguchi insisted on a bath first, and went off to find the appropriate materials. Bathing was yet another thing the priests of Karasuno were stuffy about for Tsukishima – hot water might hurt his skin, and cold water kept it clean and blemish free. If they were feeling generous on a cold night, they might allow the water to be warm—but that was the most they allowed.

  
Tsukishima realized that Yamaguchi had been gone for a while now, and he wondered if he was okay, or if he had gotten lost. His mind had started to race through a million worst case scenarios when he heard a knock at the door.

  
“Enter,” he said, sighing in relief. “It took you long enough Yama, I’m really tired you kn-“

  
“Alright then, Moon-chan, I’ll make this quick” was the reply.

  
Tsukishima whirled around and stifled a gasp. Standing before him was the Prince of Nekoma—Kuroo, Tsukishima reminded himself. The one with the eyes of a predator. Currently those eyes were appraising Tsukishima from head to toe, and he remembered that he was only wearing the thin, white, flowing garments he changed into before baths. He resisted the urge to grab the cover from the bed and wrap it around himself like a maiden.

  
“Prince Kuroo. To what do I owe this visit?” Tsukishima asked coldly.

  
“I simply wanted to see if you had settled in, Tsukki.” Kuroo chuckled when Tsukishima stiffened at the nickname, the one he had only ever allowed Yamaguchi to call him.

  
“I’m quite fine, thank you. Simply waiting on my servant to return so I can ready myself for the banquet.”

  
“Ah, you mean the little kitten with freckles? He won’t be back for a while.”

  
“Excuse me?” Tsukishima said, trying and failing to keep the panic out of his voice

.  
Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “He’s perfectly fine; he just got caught up in banquet preparations with the other servants.”

  
Tsukishima allowed his shoulders to relax. Yamaguchi was safe. He was perfectly fine. Why was he so tense anyway? Tsukishima wasn’t willing to bet on anything, but he had a strong feeling the reason why he was so unable to relax was standing in the room with him and bearing a slightly carnivorous smile. Tsukishima didn’t understand why this idiot with stupid hair and messy robes made his pulse race and his cheeks flush, but it was really starting to piss him off.

  
“In any case,” Kuroo continued, “let’s get you ready, shall we?” And with that, he opened the door, and servants carrying tubs of water, cloth, fragrances and robes bustled in, set down their items, and rushed back out, bowing slightly before shutting the door.

  
“That’s very kind of you, Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima said cautiously, “but I don’t have Yamaguchi to help me prepare.”

  
“I know. I’ll be the one getting you ready.”

  
Tsukishima froze.

  
“…what.”

  
Kuroo’s grin widened. “All the servants are busy preparing for the banquet, and we can’t have a treasured prince go unwashed, can we?” He raised a hand to stop Tsukishima protests. “Don’t even say you’ll do it yourself. I know for a fact that you’ve never dressed without help. After all…you are Karasuno’s jewel.”

  
Tsukishima’s mind raced. No way in hell, no way in hell, he thought. No way was he going to let this man bathe him, no way was he going to let him—  
_Going to what?_ Tsukishima interrupted his own thoughts. _Aren’t you being a bit vain? The guy’s just trying to help you get ready, and you really don’t have many options here._

  
Tsukishima paused a moment. “Very well. I…appreciate your help, Kuroo-san.” he said stiffly.

  
Kuroo looked a bit taken aback that Tsukishima had given in so easily, but he quickly recovered and began to hum happily to himself as he bustled about, getting things ready.

  
“General Kageyama told me all about the special procedures that have to be taken for you, Moon-chan, so don’t worry about it.” Tsukishima blushed. Idiot Kageyama. Idiot Kuroo. Idiot priests. Idiot everyone, treating him like he would break at any moment.

  
Lost in thought, Tsukishima hadn’t noticed Kuroo swiftly undoing the front of his robes till they fell around his ankles, and he shivered from the sudden breeze. He looked up and saw Kuroo in front of him—eyes tracing up and down his body, a flash of hunger, and lust and something else before he quickly laughed and walked around to Tsukishima’s back.

  
“You really are pale as the moon everywhere, huh?” Tsukishima felt his whole being go hot. “Ah, except when you flush like that, of course.” _Please, oh merciful god, allow him to disappear that very instant._ “Oh, and other, ah, delicate parts –“ _On second thought, vengeful and just god, strike Kuroo down where he stood._

  
Tsukishima cut Kuroo off. “Please just hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time before the banquet.” He said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

  
“Yes, yes, as you wish, Moon-chan.”

  
“Don’t call me that.”

  
It slipped out before Tsukishima had time to catch himself, and he cursed internally. He was supposed to regard himself, along with everyone else, as blessed, so saying anything against it was improper, no matter how much Tsukishima had grown to hate the moon.

  
“I’m sorry, I-“ he started but Kuroo cut him off.

  
“Okay. I won’t.” Tsukishima froze, startled by the tenderness in the man’s voice. “May I call you Kei instead?”

  
Tsukishima flushed, stuttering, but Kuroo only chuckled, and started to wash his back.

  
“I can understand why you would hate the name so much after all this time but—you really are beautiful, you know?”

  
Tsukishima couldn’t get his heart to calm down.

  
Kuroo continued to wash his back, over his shoulders, around his neck, down his spine, down, down…

  
Tsukishima breath hitched in his throat, and he felt Kuroo’s warm breath on his shoulder.

  
“So beautiful…” he murmured, voice husky in Tsukishima’s ear.

  
Tsukishima felt something warm and soft brush over his shoulder. Kuroo’s…lips? Had Kuroo just…?

  
But Tsukishima didn’t have time to process it, because Kuroo pulled back and finished washing him up. He proceeded to help him into the ornamental gown, and the rest of the dress session passed without event. It wasn’t until Kuroo shot him that smile one last time before leaving and shutting the door behind him that Tsukishima sank to his knees and remembered how to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gahhh let me know if you liked it, I'll update asap


	3. The Moon and the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am back once more with another update. These are all coming very quickly, but I will not be able to keep up this pace forever (applying to college, scholarships, ect.). Also, point of view will shift throughout the story.

Yamaguchi was lost.

  
He had rushed out, declaring he’d be back shortly with materials for Tsukki’s bath, and by the time he realized he had no idea where to get such items, it was too late. He wandered around the palace trying not to get in the way of the other servants rushing around, when he felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned and saw the man from the entrance ceremony (Prince Kuroo? Something like that).

  
“Say, kitten, you look lost. Are you alright?”

  
“U-um, yes, I was just—I need, well, Tsukki needs…a bath, and so I was going—but I don’t really know where—“

  
“I see.” The prince cut him off. “How about this? I’ll get someone to take care of—Tsukki, was it?—and you can run an errand for me in the meantime.”

  
Yamaguchi panicked slightly. “Tsukki needs special care, he’s—“

  
“Ah, yes, I know all about it, kitten. Kageyama-kun told me. Don’t worry, he’s in good hands.” Prince Kuroo’s tone was soothing, almost a purr. Yamaguchi felt his shoulders drop. He couldn’t go against a noble. Tsukishima would be okay, wouldn’t he?

  
Kuroo recognized Yamaguchi ‘s resignment and pounced. “So about that favor, kitten…”

  
\-----

  
Yamaguchi walked across the palace, thinking about what Prince Kuroo had told him.

  
_“Nekoma’s got this general, see? Absolutely adorable, and more importantly, a strategic genius. Unfortunately, he’s quite sickly, so most of the time he doesn’t even get on the battle field, just maps everything out from his quarters. But he’s…sort of prickly, I suppose. All the servants have trouble getting along with him because he won’t even acknowledge them. But I have a feeling he’ll lower his guard to someone as cute and innocent as you…”_

  
He sighed to himself. Tsukki was probably going to throw a fit when he got back.

  
Yamaguchi stopped in his tracks. As per Kuroo’s instructions, he had crossed the main courtyard of the palace to get to the General’s headquarters. Here, there were several large trees that shaded a small section of the palace. But these trees were unlike anything Yamaguchi had ever seen. Even though lush gardens could be kept in palaces, trees were another matter entirely—they required large amounts of water and care, especially as saplings. But these trees were huge and filled with—flowers? Exotic pink blossoms rained down onto the roof of the palace, some flowing in through the open window. The shade of the trees caused everything to be several degrees cooler, and the scene was—tranquil. That is, until a door burst open and the tallest man Yamaguchi had ever seen ran out, crying, followed by one of the shortest men Yamaguchi had ever seen.

  
“Lev, wait! He doesn’t mean anything by it, really!” called the shorter one.

  
The taller one (Lev?) continued to stride across the courtyard, whizzing past Yamaguchi and sobbing.

  
“Kenma-san h-h-hates me!” he sniffled, “He said I was l-l-loud!” this last remark was accompanied by a wail, and the tall man, followed by the short man, turned and disappeared around the corner.

  
Yamaguchi shifted the tray full of food he had been given by Kuroo in his hands. What kind of person could reduce a grown man like that to tears?

  
He sighed, steeled himself, and walked in.

  
Yamaguchi almost dropped the tray.

  
Sitting before him, on the bed, was yet another gorgeous person. Yamaguchi said person because he did not know at first if they were male or female. They had long hair, flowing down to their shoulders, and in two colors, brown at the top, down to a lighter yellow, almost like Tsukishima’s, at the bottom. They were wearing a richly embroidered red robe that pooled on the bed around them. They had their back to Yamaguchi, and when they shifted, the robe fell off their shoulders, revealing skin so pale it rivaled Tsukki’s. Even under the robe, Yamaguchi could see they were very, very frail. Suddenly, the person turned around, and Yamaguchi understood that he was standing before someone very, very dangerous.

  
Are all the nobles of Nekoma related to wild cats? Does this blood of predators run in their veins?

  
The light brown eyes pierced him, saw into his very soul, evaluated him. Apparently, however, they didn’t see him as much of a threat, because the next moment the eyes clothes and the person slumped down onto the bed.

  
“General Kenma!” Yamaguchi helped, running to the bed. He put a hand to Kenma’s forehead—perhaps a fever?—but was startled when he noticed that the general was actually rather cold. Yamaguchi drew his hand back, and the general’s eyes opened. He stared at Yamaguchi intently, and Yamaguchi could feel himself grow cold under such a gaze.  
“U-um, I’m Yamaguchi and P-Prince Kuroo sent me here to u-um, check on you…”

  
He trailed off as Kenma sat up. His robe was open, and as he was wearing nothing underneath it, Yamaguchi had a clear view of… _ah. Definitely male_. Yama looked away, blushing.

  
“I see.” Kenma’s voice startled Yamaguchi out of his trance. “Kuroo sent you?” Yamaguchi nodded and started to speak once more.

  
“I’m here to—“

  
“—be my new plaything.” Kenma finished.

  
\----

  
Yamaguchi ‘s mind reeled, trying to process what was happening. Well, currently all he was doing was blowing on hot soup, but what had happened before that…

  
“Play—what?” Yamaguchi asked, shocked.

  
“Plaything. Toy. Entertainment.” General Kenma looked bored. “Kuroo usually comes to play with me, but if he sent you, that means he found a new plaything.” At this, Kenma pouted slightly.

  
“He found what?” Yamaguchi heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach, and his mind raced. If he found a new plaything, if he sent Yamaguchi away, if he said he’d take care of Tsukishima does that mean…

  
“I’m hungry.” Kenma interrupted Yamaguchi’s panic session.

  
“Ah—yes, of course.” Yamaguchi moved to prepare the tray before he could think about it. Why was he doing this? Shouldn’t he get back to Tsukki? Yet in a way, Kenma was a lot like Tsukishima. Not just in looks, but in attitudes. However, Tsukki’s ice cold exterior was more of a front to protect himself, whereas Kenma seemed more…calculating.

  
“Here you are.” Yamaguchi set the tray, all the food carefully arranged on it, in front of the general.

  
“Feed me.” Yamaguchi, startled, looked at Kenma and realized he was serious. He almost thought about telling him he wouldn’t, but a servant can’t exactly deny a noble. And Kenma was already so thin…

  
Yamaguchi picked up the spoon, scooped some soup into it, and blew on it to cool it down. Why was he so nervous? Why did he feel like his face was on fire? Why was he shaking? He was just feeding a particularly high maintenance noble, no big deal. Well, no big deal until Kenma refused to open his mouth.

  
“General? I can’t feed you unless you—“

  
“I don’t want it from there.” Kenma glared at the spoon like it offended him.

  
“Then, would you like to, um, drink directly from the bowl? I can get a smaller cup and—“ He was interrupted by Kenma’s finger on his lips.

  
“From here.”

  
Yamaguchi’s eyes widened. He--? Wanted Yama to--?

  
Before he knew it, he had lifted the soup bowl to his lips and poured some into his mouth.

  
Stupid! What are you doing?! A voice inside of him shrieked. But Yamaguchi’s limbs seemed to move of their own accord, trapped by the eyes that gazed at him so intently.  
Yamaguchi leaned forward, and stopped. Was this really okay? He didn’t want to deny Kenma, but at the same time he was shaking…

  
He didn’t have time to think because Kenma closed the gap between them, lips pressing gently against his own. Yamaguchi opened his mouth, feeding the soup to Kenma. Kenma’s lips were surprisingly watm, compared to the rest of his body, and Yamaguchi’s head buzzed. He felt something slippery, wet, warm fill his mouth. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t think about anything except how he wanted—

  
Yamaguchi’s brain chose that exact moment to kick in again, and he hastily pulled himself back, stumbling off the bed. He was breathing heavily, mouth burning, cheeks hot. Kenma looked down on him from the bed, face propped him on his hands.

  
“Kuroo has good tastes.”

  
\-----

  
Tsukishima was learning a lot now that he was outside the palace. A few very important things he had learned included:  
Camels spit.  
Banquets are loud, awful, and full of drunk old men.  
Never, ever, ever trust attractive princes with messy bedhead.

  
The prince in question was currently across the room, surrounded by girls—not one, not two, but three girls. Tsukishima didn’t know why those women pissed him off, but they did. They all had shiny blonde hair, and beautiful curves, and plump lips, and they were all dressed in silky garments that fluttered around them. Tsukishima gnawed his bottom lip and glared. This isn’t the fault of the women, he reminded himself. It’s that idiot flirt, laughing and drinking as they hang all over him, throwing that smile around casually. Tsukishima felt cheated. That smile was for him and for him only and he—

  
Wait a minute. What the hell? Tsukishima thought to himself. Why was he getting jealous over this idiot, who he barely knew, who got on his nerves just by being in the same room as him? He glared once more, and that’s when he noticed Kuroo. Kuroo, looking right at him with those eyes that clearly stated every intention he had with Tsukishima. Tsukishima’s throat felt like it closed up, and he couldn’t swallow, couldn’t look away. But then—Kuroo did look away. Tsukishima wanted to scream. _Look at me, look at me again!_ The voice in his head yelled.

  
Tsukishima couldn’t handle any more of this nonsense. He wanted to make all these thoughts go away, wanted to numb the feeling in his chest, wanted to make the fire burning in his throat to die down. Tsukishima wanted to…

  
Drink. He wanted to drink.

  
Mind you, he’d never had a drip of alcohol in his life, and it was forbidden by the priests, but that wasn’t the point. The point was he needed something to completely drive the thought of Kuroo, of Kuroo bathing and dressing him earlier, of Kuroo’s warm breath, out of his mind. And so—he drank.

  
What felt like minutes later, he was floating on air. The alcohol, though it burned his throat and eyes, drove everything else out. He felt warm and fuzzy and happy. Well, happy was a bit of a stretch—it was more a lack of sadness.

  
“Hey, hey, old man, what’s this stuff called?” Tsukishima slurred. If he had been sober, he probably wouldn’t have called the sultan of Nekoma an old man, but, well…

  
“It’s sake, m’boy. We import it from overseas. Good stuff, eh? Goes down smooth, not as nice as wine, but better than a lot of things!” At this, Nekomata roared with laughter, and Tsukishima joined in.

  
It was all going well, until Tsukishima decided he needed to go to the bathroom. He got up, and the motion set the room spinning. He giggled at his own unsteadiness, started to move forward, and—

  
\-----

  
BANG.

  
A beat of silence.

  
Then, one of the dancers screamed.

  
“Prince Kei?! Prince Kei! Someone help, he fell, he’s not moving!”

  
Kuroo’s heart stopped.

  
In one fluid motion, he stood up and ran to the other side of the banquet all, where Kei lay motionless on the floor.

  
“What happened?” “The Prince of Karasuno? Oh god, if he’s injured…” “Someone get a healer, quick…”

  
Kuroo couldn’t breathe. Kei was small, so small, and so pale…

  
Then his chest moved. He was breathing, if shallowly, and Kuroo recognized the flush on his cheeks as a result of intoxiacation. Kuroo ground his teeth. The idiot had gone and gotten so drunk he passed out.

  
Kuroo reached down and scooped up the prince. He was extremely light in his arms, especially considering his height. “It’s all right, everyone. Prince Kei has just had a little too much to drink. I’ll take him to his room.”

  
As Kuroo left the room, carrying the unconscious prince, he could hear the music and cheery voices resume behind him. He walked across the courtyard, carrying Tsukishima. The night air was cold on his skin, and he wondered if Kei would be okay, if he would catch a cold…

  
Kuroo stopped himself. Why was he so worried about this dumb, sheltered kid? _Idiot, you know why_ , answered a snide voice in his head. Kuroo sighed, and looked down on the prince’s face, peaceful in his slumber. Yeah. He knew why.

  
\-----

  
Kuroo reached his wing of the palace. It was quiet. The servants were all attending to the banquet. He opened the door to his bedroom, lay Tsukishima down on the bed, and began to light the lamps around the room.

  
Kuroo turned back to the bed. Tsukishima lay on his side, legs curled upwards. His cheeks were pink, but the rest of his face remained pale. His hair was even more gold in the reflection of the gentle light. His robes were mussed one shoulder pulled down to reveal protruding collarbones. Kuroo sat on the bed next to him. Before he could stop himself, he was tracing Tsukishima’s nose, his cheekbones, his eyebrown, gently along his closed eyelids, across his lips—so soft, the gentle breath that passed between them so warm. He looked divine, in a most innocent way, as he slept. Kuroo’s hand traced lower—along those beautiful collarbones, to his shoulder, the edge of the robe, tugging it down slightly, lowering his head to kiss—

  
Kuroo stopped himself, lips almost touching Tsukishima’s shoulder. No. Not like this. He pulled back, heaved a sigh, and pulled the cover of the bed up over Tsukishima. He leaned back, watching the prince sleep. He never remembered craving someone this bad before, but it was more than just that…

  
Kuroo began to absentmindedly run his fingers through Tsukishima’s hair, marveling at the softness. After a few minutes, Tsukishima shifted, mumbled something, and then—

  
Tears, warm and wet, began to run down the boy’s face. Kuroo froze, shocked. Was he having a nightmare? Should Kuroo…?

  
Tsukishima’s mumbling got louder, more panicked. Kuroo strained to make out what he was saying, and when he finally did, he felt like his heart had been ripped out.

  
“Mama. Mama. Mama!” A little boy’s voice, frightened, cried out desperately, reaching for a mother that was not there. Kuroo felt his hands shaking. Why was Tsukishima using that voice? Why was he trembling, like a leaf caught in a gale, in front of Kuroo? With a start, Kuroo remembered what he had been told about the former wife of Karasuno’s sultan. He had only been ten years old at the time, and he remembered many servants whispering about it in the courtyard, and the stories he overheard about what happened to her and her son, the youngest prince…

  
Kuroo couldn’t take it. He reached down, grabbed Tsukishima, and held him in his arms. “Kei. Kei. Wake up. I’m right here.”

  
With a start, Tsukishima finally snapped out of his dream, and drew back from Kuroo. He had stopped crying, mouth open slightly in shock. Kuroo expected him to push himself away, make a snide comment, make an excuse…instead, he closed his mouth and sank back into Kuroo’s arms. Kuroo stared at him in shock.

  
“Kei…?”

  
“Please. Please just let me stay this way a while.” Tsukishima’s thin body shook with quiet sobs, and after a brief moment Kuroo drew him in closer, arms around him, holding him tightly. Neither said anything, as the two sat there, two princes, one crying the tears of a child, clinging for dear life, the other holding him desperately, keeping him rooted to the earth, to reality—the crescent moon in the sky their only witness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i...am trash  
> I should have the fourth chapter written quickly, let me know if you want it!  
> also my tumblr is toyokojsp. If...you wanna...you know...you don't have to... (i am bad at self promotion please excuse me)  
> Comments always welcome!!  
> EDIT: I am such an idiot I only just now realized these weren't posting with the formatting I wanted so I went back and fixed all three chapters...geez. Hopefully a bit easier to read now.


	4. New Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! This one is a little shorter, but chock full of good stuffs.

Tsukishima was warm.

For some reason, there was an odd, dull ache throughout his whole body, and especially his head, but he didn’t mind that so much. For the moment, he was warm, wrapped in something soft. He snuggled his head closer to the warm—this was hard, firm. Moving? Almost like breathing…

Tsukishima shot up, and then doubled over. There was pain behind his eyes so strong it made him queasy. He had never been in so much pain…was this poison? Was he going to die?

“Don’t panic. You’ve just had too much to drink.”

Tsukishima slowly opened his eyes, and looked to the source of the voice. Sprawled on the bed next to him, grinning that lazy grin, was Kuroo. He had nothing on his upper half, and Tsukishima’s eyes traced the tanned, muscled skin. There was a scar on his right shoulder, and to avoid staring at it Tsukishima moved his eyes…down. Where Kuroo’s bottom half was covered by the bed sheets.

Tsukishima closed his eyes again. “Please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me you are wearing something under that.”

Kuroo just grinned in response, and in one deft movement, flicked the sheet off of him to reveal…

Pants. The simple, baggy pants many men wore under their robes.

Kuroo broke into a fit of laughter.

“T-tsukki, you l-look so disappointed!” he wheezed out.

Tsukishima felt his face grow hot. Was he disappointed? It didn’t matter, he needed to get up, away from Kuroo—

He tried to stand but almost immediately collapsed. He would have fallen to the floor if not for Kuroo’s arms around his waist, pulling him back onto the bed and into Kuroo’s chest gently.

“Easy there…” he murmured, breath hot on Tsukishima’s neck.”You really did drink a lot earlier.”

“Earlier?”

“Yeah. It’s a few hours before daybreak now. Don’t you remember last night?”

Tsukishima shut his eyes and thought about. The banquet, the drinks, Kuroo, the girls…

He stiffened in Kuroo’s arms.

“Well, I’m very sorry to have inconvenienced you. I’m sure you’d much rather be with one of those ladies from last night right now.” He said snidely.

Kuroo was silent a moment, then chuckled, deep in his throat. The sound, for whatever reason, made Tsukishima very hot, and it didn’t help when Kuroo leaned in, his lips brushing Tsukishima’s ear.

“Were you jealous, Kei?”

Tsukishima’s whole body was boiling. He felt like he couldn’t control himself—

“I guess you didn’t notice, but I really was looking at you the whole time.”

Tsukishima, startled, turned his head to look at Kuroo. Kuroo gently tilted his chin up and pressed his lips onto Tsukishima’s, firmly but gently. Tsukishima was shocked. Kuroo’s lips were warm, surprisingly soft, and tasted a bit like the sake from the previous night. He smelled so good—like woodsmoke, and another heavy, earthy fragrance Tsukishima couldn’t identify. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head was spinning, so he closed his eyes. He opened his mouth against Kuroo’s gently nudging his tounge against the other’s lips, and Kuroo obliged, opening his own mouth. Tsukishima felt intoxicated, like he did when he was drunk, but even better. His hand lazily trailed up Kuroo’s side, sliding over his chest, up his neck, tangling in his hair—

Kuroo flipped him over onto the bed and kneeled over him. He was breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, and the way he looked at Tsukishima sent shivers through his body.

“Who the hell taught you to kiss like that, kid?” he asked, still panting.

Tsukishima only smiled slyly in response.

Kuroo growled in the back of his throat.

“Don’t rile me up anymore than you already have. I’m pretty possessive, you know?”

And with that, he leaned down to kiss Tsukishima again, lips more frantic this time, desperate for more contact, more of Kei…

Suddenly Kuroo pulled back, and then buried his face in the sheets above Tsukishima’s shoulder.

“Kuroo?” Tsukishima asked, hesitantly.

“I can’t do this.”

Tsukishima’s heart dropped.

Kuroo lifted his head, but instead of leaving like Kei expected him to, he gently rested his forehead against Tsukishima’s.

“I don’t want to ruin you.”

Tsukishima blinked once.

He blinked again.

Then he sat up very suddenly, head colliding with Kuroo’s.

“Ruin…me?” Tsukishima’s voice shook with anger. “I…I am not some delicate flower. I’m not some divine being. You…you’re just like everyone else! You all just treat me like porcelain, like I’m here to be admired and not touched and I am so sick of it!” Tsukishima realized he was screaming and quieted his voice. “I just want—I just want someone to—“ His voice caught and he leaned back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands.

“Kei.” Kuroo’s voice sent shivers down his spine. “I want to. Believe me, I want to. I’m not accusing you of being delicate or breakable. I just don’t hold back very well, and I don’t want you to make a mistake. I’m doing this because I care about you.”

Tsukishima looked up at Kuroo, surprised. Kuroo seemed to realize what he had just said and was blushing profusely.

“I-I mean…” he started, but trailed off as Tsukishima sat up and wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s neck, face buried in his shoulder.

Kuroo gave up. He wrapped his arms around Tsukishima’s waist, drawing him closer, holding him. They stayed like that for a while, listening to the distant sounds of party-goers and the wind. Kuroo closed his eyes, feeling Tsukishima breathe against him. This was nice…

Kuroo’s eyes flew open. He could feel Tsukishima, or rather his soft, wet lips, slowly trailing up Kuroo’s neck. Kuroo froze. Tsukishima continued up his neck, now gently sucking, now nibbling, til he reached his ear and—

Kuroo pushed himself backwards, off Tsukishima.

“Kei. If we start this now, I won’t stop.”

Tsukishima smiled, a dangerous, seductive smile. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Kei.” More firmly this time. Kuroo got off the bed. “You should think about this before we do anything. Sleep on it.” He leaned down and kissed Tsukishima on the forehead, gently, and held there a moment.

Suddenly, Tsukishima pulled him down, so that he could look directly in his eyes.

“I am going to make you want me so bad you won’t be able to think straight.”

Kuroo gulped, and could feel himself go hard at the mere sound of Tsukishima’s voice. Tsukishima stood up, adjusted his robes, and walked to the curtain covering the doorway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Tetsurou.” And then he was gone.

Kuroo threw himself on the bed. He was so done for.

\-----

After the incident with General Kenma, Yamaguchi had excused himself and fled. He went to Tsukki’s quarters, and after not locating him there, went to the banquet. Unfortunately, Tsukki wasn’t there either, and just as Yama was getting ready to go search for him, he had been cornered by the cook and given a tray to serve the nobles with. And so much of the night passed, until Yamaguchi was able to sneak out in early morning. Now he was lost again, and wandering in a particularly quiet corner of the palace when he heard voices.

_Probably nobles talking_ , he thought to himself. He passed quickly by the door when he heard a familiar voice and stopped. Tsukki? He parted the curtain slightly and peeked in, to judge if it would be alright for him to walk in when he saw Tsukki. Tsukki, robes askew, cheeks flushed. Tsukki, in the candlelight. Tsukki, with Prince Kuroo pulling him close, kissing his forehead gently. Tsukki smiling slightly, closing his eyes at the touch.

Yamaguchi’s whole world stopped turning.

Surely this was some misunderstanding, surely—

“I am going to make you want me so bad you won’t be able to think straight.”

Yamaguchi felt his heart stop beating, and before he knew it he was running, running across the palace, tears streaming down his face, vision blurred. He didn’t know where he was going. It didn’t matter. For the first time in his life, all he wanted was to be away from Tsukishima Kei.

Yamaguchi continued to run. He would’ve run all the way across the desert, if he hadn’t tripped and fallen. The front of his robes tore, and so did his pants. His knees and hands were scraped and dirty, but the sting felt good. Something to take away from what felt like a void in his chest, threatening to make him crash in on himself. He wiped his tears, hiccupping, but calming down. Why was he so upset? He had given up Tsukki long ago. There could be nothing of that nature between a master  and servant, nothing of true love anyway…

He had stopped crying. _This is good_ , he told himself. Tsukki found someone to rely on. He found someone to love. _This is good_ , he told the dirt. _Good_ , he said to the cold moon and the stars and the hole in his chest. _Good_.

Yamaguchi realized in that moment that he was not alone. He could hear someone else sniffling nearby, and looked around at his surroundings to realize he had no idea where he was. There was one barren tree in this courtyard, and small structure stood next to it. It had an ornately decorated roof, and was open on all sides with thin beams to support it. The gentle sobbing was coming from it, and Yamaguchi recognized the tone of the cry—the same sort of cry he had just finished having. Someone was heartbroken.

Hesitantly, Yamaguchi walked up to the building. He climbed the steps and peeked in.

“Hello?” a hesitant call. The sniffling stopped.

“Iwa…chan?” came the broken reply. Yamaguchi stepped further inside to reply.

“Ah, no, sorry, I’m Yamaguchi—“  he stopped abrubtly as he spotted the person  on the floor, knees tucked in close to his chest. The moonlight seemed to shift, and reflected off the shining eyes of Prince Oikawa. Tears dripped steadily down his face, but he looked strangly calm. There was an empty look there as he turned his head to face Yamaguchi, almost as though he was looking through them.

“Ah. The little gift from earlier, right?” Yamaguchi, shocked by the fact he had just stumbled in on a noble crying his eyes out in the middle of the night, simply nodded in response. Oikawa offered a weak smile.

“Sorry you have to see me like this, I know I must look a mess—“

“You don’t, you still look beautiful!” Yamaguchi blurted out. He almost smacked himself in the face for talking so carelessly.

Oikawa looked up, startled, smile more genuine this time. “I see.” He looked Yamaguchi up and down, noticing his bleeding hands and knees, the eyes red and puffy from crying, robes dirty and torn. “Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes, of course, I’m…” Yamaguchi’s voice caught in his throat, and he tried to choke back a sob. Oikawa simply looked on for a moment, watching Yamaguchi struggle to hold back tears.

“Come here.” Yamaguchi, though the tears blurred his vision, saw Oikawa patting the space in front of him. He shuffled over, standing in the space, looking down at Oikawa.

“Turn around.” He did so. “Now sit.”

Yamaguchi sat, his back to Oikawa, shoulders shaking as he continued to cry silently. He felt Oikawa put his arms around him, and even in his moment of heartbreak, couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. The arms were tan, long, slender, strong, warm—every inch of this man was beautiful, sculpted as though art from marble. Oikawa pulled Yamaguchi gently back into his chest, holding him in his lap. Yamaguchi continued to cry, turning his head to hide his face in Oikawa’s chest. Oikawa rested his chin on Yamaguchi’s head, gently rubbing his back. They stayed that way, neither talking, Yamaguchi sobbing into Oikawa’s chest, gentle tears running off Oikawa’s face and onto Yama’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst and heartbreak. i am sorry.


	5. Mourning Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i have risen from the dead  
> sorry this took so long to come out but i hope this makes up for the wait, next chapter out sooner!  
> also shoutout to sailor_romeo for being really awesome  
> enjoy!!

The morning sun beat down into Tsukishima’s face. He furrowed his brow against it, willing it to go away, leave him alone, get out of his face.  Much the same way he was willing someone else to get out of his head. _Stupid bedhead prince_ , Tsukki fumed. In all honesty, he wasn’t angry that Kuroo wouldn’t get out of his thoughts—he was pissed as hell about the rejection. It stung, even if Kuroo had done it gently, and even if he did think he was doing what was best for Tsukishima. He found himself wanting to drive Kuroo as crazy as Kuroo drove him, found himself wanting Kuroo to want him. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate on the solution to his problem. How on earth was he supposed to seduce Kuroo? It wouldn’t do to be embarrassed or shy. He’d have to be extremely forward if he wanted to get through to Kuroo.

A rare breeze shifted the air in the courtyard, cooling Tsukki’s face. He heard the tinkling of bells, the giggling of women, and he smelled something sweet on the wind. He opened his eyes and looked across the courtyard—where he saw five or six women slide open the door to one of the noble’s rooms, and slide in. They were girls from the harem—hair done, perfumed, skin clean and decorated. They wore silk harem pants, shimmering and iridescent, and a matching band of silk around their chest. Light, see through fabric, connected and hung from ankles and wrists, fluttered about them, and the light veils covering the lower half of their faces shifted as they giggled and murmured. There was something so sensual about them, in the way they carried themselves, that even Tsukishima (who wasn’t attracted to anyone besides guys with weird hair, apparently) found himself blushing and looking away.

Suddenly Tsukishima’s eyes snapped back to the harem girls, and the vague beginnings of a plan formed in his mind. It would be risky, stupid, and embarrassing, but at this point, he was ready to try anything.

\-----

Yamaguchi was more comfortable than he’d ever been. This bed was so soft, and warm, and big…

He furrowed his brow, keeping his eyes shut. _Why was he in a bed?_ Servants didn’t sleep in beds. He hadn’t slept in a bed since he was twelve. He smiled fondly, remembering how Tsukki would always ask him to sleep together in case he had a nightmare.

_Tsukki_. Yama gasped and shot straight up, remembering the night before. _Tsukki, being kissed. Tsukki, loving someone else. Tsukki, not needing him anymore._ He felt the now-familiar sting in his eyes once more, and his chest tightened, like his own lungs were collapsing in on themselves, trying to suffocate him.

He heard the sheets rustle next to him and looked over. Prince Oikawa, still sleeping, lay there next to him. His eyes were puffy, his hair was messy, he was drooling a bit, and yet he was still so gorgeous that he took Yama’s breath away. He found himself leaning down, eyes on the prince’s pretty pink lips, his breath coming out in gentle, warm puffs through them… _Oikawa-san is kind, he carried me to his chambers last night, and allowed me to stay_ …closer, closer…breath warm against Yama’s lips…

“It’s a bit unfair to jump a man in his sleep, you know?” The voice startled Yamaguchi so much that he yelped and leapt backwards. The noise startled Oikawa awake, and he sat up, sleepily blinking.

The man who had spoken was standing in the doorway, observing coolly. Yamaguchi recognized him, the general from the ceremony…

Oikawa, taking in what was happening, smiled crookedly at the general. “Ah, Iwa-chan. No need to look so grumpy this early in the morning.” He seemed to be his usual teasing self, but there was something in his tone, and the way his eyes flashed, that made Yamaguchi realize that this man was the reason Oikawa had cried with Yamaguchi the night before.

“I tend to be grumpy when a spoiled prince and a servant brat fall asleep in my bed.”

Wait… _his_ bed? Yama thought Oikawa was returning to his own chambers.

“Sorry, sorry, Iwa-chan, I was really tired so I guess I messed up!” He beamed up at the general.

“Like hell.” The general’s cold tone seemed to change the atmosphere of the room, and Yamaguchi shivered. Oikawa’s shoulders dropped, his back stiffened, and the grin slid off his face, replaced by something far more menacing.

“Jealous, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked, contempt present in his tone.

Yamaguchi eyes widened. No, that wasn’t just contempt; there was something else in his eyes, something bordering on the verge of…hope. Everything seemed to click in place for Yamaguchi, and for the second time in two days, he felt his heart snap.

The general opened his mouth to reply, but Yamaguchi spoke over him.

“If you’ll excuse me, Prince.” He kept his head lowered as he walked to the door, hands trembling.

“Yamaguchi, wait a second…” Oikawa started. Yamaguchi whirled around, tears streaming down his face again, and Oikawa froze.

“I’m…I’m not…I refuse to be a pawn that you use to get back at someone else!” Yamaguchi screamed. Then he turned on heel and fled, leaving the shocked silence of the room behind.

Yamaguchi ran, sobs shaking his small body. Why, why, why was it turning out like this? He felt so unneeded, unnecessary, unwanted. What was the point of it, of any of it?

He slowed down, still sobbing, and realized once again he had no idea where he was. He turned a corner, bumped into someone, and fell back.

Yamaguchi looked up. It was a nobleman, a lower rank, but still far above Yamaguchi. Yama didn’t recognize him, but he immediately started in on an apology.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

The man cut Yamaguchi off, chuckling darkly. The noise made Yama’s skin crawl.

“Now, now, pet. You have to be careful not to be so clumsy. Not everyone is going to be as nice as me.” He loomed over Yamaguchi, eyes gleaming. “Especially one so delicious and helpless looking as you…”

He leaned down, grabbing Yamaguchi by both wrists. Yamaguchi immediately began to struggle, to try and wriggle away, but the man clamped down on his wrists harder, and Yamaguchi cried out in pain.

“What a lovely sound. Let’s hear you make it again…” He squeezed again, harder this time, so hard Yamaguchi thought his wrists were going to snap—

Suddenly, a flurry of fabric was blocking Yamaguchi ‘s view. The man gasped, letting go of his wrists and stumbling backwards. Yamaguchi looked up, and saw the thin frame, draped in a robe. He had a Far Eastern style fan in the hand that was shielding Yamaguchi. His eyes were the scariest Yamaguchi had ever seen them.

“G—general Kenma!” The man gasped.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid he’s very much mine.” Kenma said, eyes never wavering. “So, if you touch him again, I’m sure you are very aware of the consequences.”

“Y-yes!” The man managed to stammer out, before turning and fleeing.

Yamaguchi scrambled to his feet. “Kenma-san, I—“

Suddenly Kenma swayed, gently bumping into Yamaguchi.

“Sorry, Yamaguchi. Could you please take me back to my chambers? I’m a bit tired.” His face was pale, and there was sweat on his brow.

“Ah! Yes, of course!” Kenma startled Yamaguchi by reaching up and wrapping his arms around Yama’s neck. Yamaguchi, a bit embarrassed, gently picked the general up, bridal-style, and began to carry him across the compound. He was small, no bigger than a child really, and light, too light. Kenma nuzzled his head into Yamaguchi’s neck, and Yama marveled at this difference of behavior—not the hard, calculating general, not the seductive sprite. He was gentle and warm and small, and Yamaguchi wanted to be close to him.

“Yamaguchi.” Kenma’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “I don’t know what is weighing on you so heavily that you’re crying till your eyes are puffy, but I want you to know you can talk to me if you want.”

“General Kenma--!”

“Just Kenma.”

“G-general, I couldn’t possibly—I’m a servant, so I can’t—“

“Does it really matter?” Kenma cut him off. “Servant. General. Priest. Prince. Sultan. We’re all just people, in the end. And you’re one of the few people I can actually stand, so don’t cry, okay?”

Even so, Yamaguchi felt tears brim in his eyes again. This time, however, they didn’t come with the same feelings of desolation, and sadness, and loneliness. This time, when they fell from his cheeks, Kenma reached a small hand up to brush them away. This time, as Yamaguchi walked through the palace, carrying the slight general, he felt he was actually needed.

\-----

Tsukishima must have lost his goddamn mind. At least, that’s what he thought to himself as he looked down at the garments (barely) covering his body. He sighed, pulling on his usual robe over his clothes. He knew what needed to be done now, so he refused to be embarrassed about it and chicken out. _Besides_ , Tsukki thought bitterly, _nothing could be more mortifying than what has already happened._

Earlier in the day, he had worked up the nerve to approach the mistress of the harem. He explained what he needed, and she was _delighted_ to help. There were many men in the harem too, so she had plenty of experience dressing boys for this sort of thing, she said. He was brought into the harem itself, and the girls tittered over him from behind their screens, and the young men lay about, flashing him seductive looks through half-lidded eyes. There air was thick with perfume, and Tsukki felt his head spinning as the mistress brought out swatches of cloth and gold ornaments to decorate, and cooed over his flawless skin. He had never been so mortified in his life, but he grimaced and got through it. _So that son of a bitch better lose his mind when he sees me in this._

Tsukishima finished tying his robe, blew out the lamp, and slid out the door, the moon lighting his path and keeping his secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaAAAAAH okay things are getting HEATED my friends  
> also my tumblr is toyokojsp please feel free to talk to me AND if you do/find artwork inspired by this fic link it to me in the comments i'd love to see it!!!  
> comments always welcome


	6. Blood Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE RISEN  
> sorry for being out for so long, life throws a lot of stuff at you sometimes, you know?

The lamplight flickered gently, throwing the shadows on the wall into a gentle dance. The wind outside shifted, and Kuroo shivered beneath the covers. He was about to call a servant for another hot water bottle for the bed when he heard the gentle tap, tap, tap, of feet outside the door. He immediately stiffened—years of being a prince do make you somewhat paranoid—and when the footsteps stopped outside his door he sat up quietly and reached for the broadsword by his bed. The knob turned, the door creaked. Kuroo leaned forward, and—

“Are you going to run me through with that?”

The lamplight danced in the golden eyes, reflected gently off the golden hair. The white robe seemed to glow in the darkness, and Kuroo’s breath caught in his throat.

“Ah. It wouldn’t do any good. It seems I’ve already died, and my angel has come to bear me away.”

Tsukishima snickered. “That one was just awful. My stomach is churning.”

Kuroo huffed and leaned back on his elbows, feet still swung over the side of the bed.

“Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic.” he pouted.

Tsukishima smirked, eyes flashing, as he walked toward Kuroo, resting his hands on Kuroo’s bare shoulders, tracing the muscles with long, pale fingers.

“No need for romance, I’ve already been seduced.” Tsukishima’s voice was a husky whisper, and he leaned in to Kuroo, mouth just a breath away.

 _“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I am so done for”_ was the last thought Kuroo had before he crashed forward, closing the gap between himself and Tsukishima. The tension from the moment beforehand evaporated and twisted into something else, something needier, more desperate, something that caused Kuroo’s blood to boil and set his mind ablaze. Tsukishima’s skin was cool beneath his roving fingertips, rapidly tracing his jaw and neck before moving down his chest to rest on his hips. At the touch, Tsukishima surged forward, hands twisting into Kuroo’s hair. Kuroo opened his mouth, flicking his tongue at Tsukishima’s bottom lip and darting into his mouth when the other responded. Tsukishima moaned into Kuroo’s mouth, but upon realizing the kind of noise he had just produced, immediately pulled back, a fierce blush coloring his cheeks.

Kuroo chuckled, reeling the embarrassed prince back toward himself. “Now, now, Tsukki, no need to be ashamed. You’re so cute, all innocent and shy.”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head back slightly, looking down at Kuroo. “Innocent, huh?” he asked Kuroo, challenge in his tone.

Kuroo grinned up at him, enjoying riling him up like this. “Innocent as an infant” he purred.

Tsukishima jerked back roughly, pulling free of Kuroo’s grasp, and Kuroo frowned up at him, opening his mouth to tell him he was just teasing, when—

Kei’s hands dug at the ties of his robes, undoing them, fingers trembling just enough to be noticeable. Kuroo closed his mouth, swallowing his words, too surprised by the sudden turn of events to manage speaking at that particular moment.  As Tsukishima finished undoing the ties, the blush on his cheeks crept up to his ears and down to his chest, flushing him pale pink. _Ah_ , Kuroo thought, momentarily distracted from the events unfolding (literally) before him, _he really is beautiful._

The silken sound of Tsukishima’s robe slipping to the floor called Kuroo back to the task at hand, and his eyes traveled down to Tsukishima’s body—and stopped. Kuroo’s brain stopped. His lungs stopped. His heart stopped. Time itself stopped.

 _This is how I die_. Kuroo managed to conjure a single thought from his currently short-circuiting brain, taking in the scene before him.

Tsukishima, pale as moonlight, dressed in garments made of Nekoma’s signature red fabric. A thin piece wrapped around his chest, loose fitting harem pants in the same color to match slung low on his hips, gold bangles cuffing his ankles. Matching bangles hung on his delicate wrists, a piece of gauzy, sheer fabric attached between them.

Moments stretched out to infinity in the silence between them, Tsukishima staring at the floor, Kuroo staring at Tsukishima. Finally it was broken, Tsukishima mumbling a nervous “Say something , idiot.”

Kuroo said nothing, and Tsukishima couldn’t bring himself to look up at him. A few more moments and then-- 

“Come here.” Kuroo’s voice seemed to border on a growl, deep and primitive and full of need. Tsukishima did as he was told, shuffling somewhat hesitantly over to Kuroo. Once close enough, Kuroo reached out and pulled him in, Kei straddling his lap, before pausing once more, hand tracing up Kei’s stomach, smoothing over the fabric of the bandeau.

“For me?” Kuroo looked up at Tsukishima, eyes so awestruck that Tsukishima had to look away, blush deepening.

“Well, I certainly didn’t do it for myself.” Tsukishima retorted _(although, I suppose I did, because seducing you is for my gain, he thought a bit bitterly)_ , but that was all Kuroo needed. He flipped Tsukishima onto his back, pressing him into the bed, hot, wet kisses tracing from his jaw line to the top of the bandeau. Tsukishima stifled a groan once again.

“You look so good, Tsukki.” Kuroo purred, teeth catching Kei’s earlobe and pulling. This time, Tsukishima did moan, ending in a breathy gasp. “You sound good too. Keep making noise for me, baby.”

Before Tsukishima had time to register, Kuroo caught his wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand, then pushed Tsukishima’s top further up his chest with the other, grinning up at him before lowering his head to flick a tongue at Kei’s nipple. Tsukishima sucked in a harsh breath, and Kuroo licked a few more times before placing his mouth fully around it, circling with his tongue, sucking, and then pulling back to blow cool air across it. He repeated the process as Tsukishima’s noises began to get louder, and eventually his body was writhing beneath Kuroo, hips bucking up, searching for friction. Kuroo grinned, giving the nipple on last little bite before releasing Kei’s wrists, hands moving down to play with the waistband of Tsukishima’s pants.

“You know, Tsukki, these pants really don’t hide much.” he snickered, running his thumb down the clearly visible bulge.

Tsukishima gasped at the touch, hips bucking before he could stop them, hands wrapping around Kuroo’s upper arms, all of his former cold pride and restraint gone.

“Kuroo, please, I-I need—“

“Need what, love? What do you want me to do?” Kuroo purred, grinning like the cat that had just eaten the canary.

Tsukishima faltered, eyes cast down.

“Touch me. Please. Tetsurou.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he paused, savoring the words, before happily obliging—lips surging forward to catch Tsukishima’s, hands tugging his pants down to his calves, before pushing him back onto the bed and sitting up to survey the scene below him.

Tsukishima, clothes pushed back, hair disheveled, mouth open and panting, pink dusting his cheeks, and shoulders, pupils so dark and large barely any of the gold showed around them. A sprinkle of pale hair, leading down to the pink erection laying on his stomach, a few drops of pre-cum already forming at the tip, twitching gently now that it was exposed to the cool air. Kuroo’s own cock strained painfully against his pants at the sight, and he leaned down, hands tracing Tsukishima’s waist and sides as he kissed down his chest, stopping just short of where he knew Kei really wanted him to be. Tsukishima groaned, one arm slung across his face.

“Tetsu, please—“ he started, but the sounds of horns blaring caused them both to shoot up, looking around wildly. Kuroo listened a moment before his eyes widened, recognizing the call. Tsukishima felt Kuroo’s hands tighten around his waist, pulling him closer, and he looked up at Kuroo, confused.

“Kei.” Tsukishima recognized the urgency and seriousness in Kuroo’s tone. “Put on your robe. Stay here.” Kuroo stood up, grabbing the sword from the bedside and throwing on his shirt before rushing out. Tsukishima quickly dressed and followed him out. Like hell he was going to stay behind like some damsel in distress.

He caught up to Kuroo quickly, who only shot him a look before continuing his brisk pace, headed toward the front gates of the castle.

There was a small gathering of guards, blocking whoever the trumpets had announced as a messenger from a different kingdom through.

“What’s going on?” Kuroo called as he neared the group. The guards whipped around, fear and worry in their faces.

“Sire, he needs a medic but refuses to go until he speaks to his master. He’s losing too much blood!”

By now, the guards had opened up around the messenger in the middle, and Tsukishima peered down at the figure lying prone on the ground. Blood dripped out of the wound made by the snapped off arrow in the middle of his back, pooling in the sand around him. Bright orange hair had been tainted crimson from another’s blood, and the same blood smeared across his face. Without the usual boundless energy, he seemed so small, almost unrecognizable.

Tsukishima shoved through the guards, dropping to his knees next to Hinata. At the sight of Tsukishima, Hinata’s eyes widened and he sat up, falling against Tsukishima.

“M-my prince,” he stuttered out, blood running from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto Tsukishima’s robe, “Karasuno…has been attacked. You—you musn’t return. The sultan wishes for you…to seek asylum…from Nekoma.” Hinata wheezed the last part out, eyes fluttering closed and stilling against Tsukishima’s arms.

Nobody seemed able to move for a moment. Then the sound of a sword clattering against the ground drew Tsukishima’s eyes up, to find General Kageyama standing a few feet away—blood drained from his face, eyes wide. He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees, gathering Hinata’s small form in his arms and cradling him close to his chest. Tears dripped from his face, splashing onto Hinata’s. Several soldiers ran to get a medic, but Tsukishima found himself unable to move, unable to think, staring at the small boy in his general’s arms. He felt Kuroo gently tugging him up, guiding him away from the gates, but as he turned he caught a glimpse of Kageyama, face to the sky, mouth open and a scream ripping like a howl from his grief-stricken throat, small, still form tucked gently into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so s o r r y  
> you can yell at me in the comments or on tumblr (toyokojsp)  
> please don't hate me, it's not as bad as it seems


	7. Strawberry Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miss me?  
> well u wont after this chapter kids cause its a damn mess

_Ah. I'm drowning._

_I know this feeling._

_From then..._

_Mother...?_

_Where did you go?_

_Mother?_

_Wake up...wake up...wake up..._

 

"...wake up...wake up! Kei! Open your eyes! Kei!"

 

Tsukishima could hear a voice, fuzzy and muffled, like he was underwater. He knew that voice. He just couldn't place it. 

 

"Kei, please, open your eyes. They're going to get the priests now. Kei, please, hang on..."

 

The man was crying. Tsukishima felt bad. Did he make the man cry? He could feel himself being cradled, but he wasn't sure why. Did he fall asleep?

 

"Kei...Kei..." The voice kept sobbing, repeating his name like a mantra, like a prayer, and he couldn't help but want to reach out to it as he felt himself slipping back under the water, back into the suffocating dark.

\---

_"Kei. Kei."_

 

_Ah, Tsukishima thought, it's warm here. He opened his eyes slowly, and looked up from where he was being cradled. A smile, warm and kind and gentle, greeted him. Tsukishima felt his chest warm with affection, and he tightened his small fists in the fabric of the loose fitting robe his mother was wearing._

_"Mommy. Where are we?"_

_His mother gave a small laugh, and cuddled the young boy closer. "We're going back to our room, little darling. You fell asleep after Akiteru's coming-of-age ceremony, remember?"_

_Tsukishima yawned and layed his head back on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mommy. Will big brother be mad?"_

_"Of course not, Kei. He loves you very much and knows you need to rest properly."_

_Tsukishima turned his face toward the night sky, and the stars twinkled in reply. He knew all their names--Mother loved the stars, and so she had shared them with Kei. He loved them like they were his guardians, protectors in the heavens promising blessings from above._

_He had almost fallen asleep again when he saw a strange shadow behind his mother. The shadow seemed to move, following them, not daring to make a noise. What a silly thing, Tsukishima thought, and he giggled quietly._

_"What is it, firefly?" Mother asked gently._

_Tsukishima opened his mouth to reply when--_

_Suddenly, he was staring up at the stars again. The air whooshed out of him, and he began to tear up from the pain and suddeness of it, when he felt something warm on his cheek. It smelled of coin and salt, and he kept wiping it away, but more was coming. Where was it coming from? Tsukishima looked into his mother's face, curled over him as she protected his small body._

_"It's okay, darling. It's okay, Kei. Mother is here...Mother is...here..."_

_Tsukishima watched the shadow pause, begin to move toward him..._

_The sound of footsteps approaching broke the silence, and the shadow turned and scurried away, fleeing over the walls of the compound. Cries of "Intuder! Intruder!" echoed in the space around, but none of it seemed to reach Kei. He seemed to be sinking, the ground beneath him liquid, lungs on fire as he drowned, as he felt his mother leave him, body still curled in a protective cage around his small body._

_The stars above twinkled and danced and glimmered and burned out into nothingness. The moon, his good luck charm, his blessing, seemed to stare coldly down at him._

_So much for guardians._

_\---_

Yamaguchi felt himself being gently shaken awake. Where had he fallen asleep? He smelled a sweet fragrance he couldn't place, something intoxicating and flowery...

He slowly opened his eyes. It was still dark out, the gentle light of the moon barely illuminating the room. Yamaguchi allowed his eyes to roam, and settled on the person sitting next to him in the bed.

_Ah...Kenma looks so beautiful in the moonlight..._

With a start, Yamaguchi sat straight up, a fierce blush spreading across his face. He remembered falling asleep next to the general (Kenma had insisted), and began to stammer out and apology when he noticed the strange look on Kenma's face.

"Um...General...what's-"

"Something has happened, Tadashi." Kenma's voice was quiet, but so cold and clear that it sent chills up Yamaguchi's spine, and he felt his stomach drop.

Yamaguchi chuckled nervously. "General Kenma, what are you talking about? If this is about what happened yesterday, then-"

"Tadashi."

Every one of Yamaguchi's nerves felt like it was on fire. Something was very, very wrong. He could feel it, not just from the look in Kenma's eyes but from the atmosphere of the palace. Something thick and dangerous and sickening had settled over the palace, and he felt it stick to his skin, swirl in his lungs. He didn't want this. He didn't want to hear this. He needed to leave, to find Tsukki, to--

"You will not be able to return home."

\---

The smell of incense, thick and heavy. A single, dim lantern. Bandages, made of clean strips of linen. Half an arrow, died the color of rust, sitting in a silver dish. Shallow, gentle breaths.

Kageyama waited. The priests had come in with the medics, chanting purification and healing prayers, washing the blood off the small ginger messenger, doing their best to wrap him up. Kageyama had not left the room while they healed, had refused the offer of a bath, of food, of a blanket. Instead, he waited, counting the shallow breaths. One of the medics had told him right before they left that if Hinata could make it through the night, he would be alright.

If.

Kageyama did not need an intimate knowledge of healing to know that Hinata's chances were slim. The wound itself wouldn't have been too bad, but Hinata running with the arrow in his back had aggravated it, causing it to bleed more...and it had kept bleeding as he made his way across the desert.

He kept counting breaths, praying that each one would be followed by another.

_Dumbass Hinata, Kageyama thought bitterly. What did you do to yourself? You were shot by an arrow and you ran through the desert to let your master know what happened. How many days did it take you on foot, wounded and bleeding out? Did you stop to rest, to think about what you were doing? When did you decide to snap the arrow off as best you could? Didn't you know it would just make you bleed more? Did you even care?_

_No, of course you didn't. All you ever did was run. That's all you ever wanted to do. See where you could get with your own two feet, fly across mountains and deserts._

Kageyama felt the tears course down his face. No, he was the real idiot here. He had known for a long time what he felt toward Hinata. It caused him to act selfishly, to lash out at the young messenger and bicker when all he really wanted to do was pull him close.

Kageyama reached out a hand and gently stroked the bright orange hair.

"Hey, Shoyou."

Hinata did not stir, breathing so shallow and delicate it seemed he could break at any moment.

Kageyama continued to speak, voice thick with emotion.

"You have to wake up, okay, dumbass? Because I haven't gotten to tell you yet, and I want to tell you everything, and when I do I won't ever...ever...let you go. Because I lo--"

Kageyama found himself choking on his words, the lump in his throat too tight and painful for him to continue. His mouth opened, a coarse sob ripping from his chest as he gently reached out, grasping Hinata's hand and burying his face in the sheets at his side.

Moments passed, and then Kageyama felt the hand in his own squeeze weakly. 

"Stupid Kageyama. I already knew."

Kageyama froze, stunned, but then slowly lifted his head from the sheets.

He was met with a weak grin, somehow still brighter than the sun.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaHAHAHA sorry for the inconsistencies if there are a few, also for some time perspective in the ch 3 notes im talking abt applying to colleges and as of now, ch 7, im getting ready to move into dorms in three weeks  
> please dont hate me for all the angst but i made it better kinda see  
> lemme know what u think u guys r my true motivators   
> also side note a lot of the chapter names are names of actual moon related phenomenon


	8. Cheshire Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs back into your lives with my hair on fire*  
> you ever look at something you created for so long that you start to hate it a lot a lot a lot  
> this chapter is being done purely out of spite because they're are so many good fics out there that authors abandon halfway through and i will be DAMNED if i dont finish this  
> im doing my best to salvage the character arcs i have abandoned because i have GROWN as a writer but please give me some grace luv u  
> ALSO fun fact i had this whole story planned out, and outline for each chapter neatly drawn out and i fucking????broke the computer that was on lmao lets see what happens

Kei open his eyes.

 

His mouth feels like it's filled with cotton, and his eyelids are puffy and heavy. The sun streaming in from the window is altogether too bright, and his first instinct is to roll over and go back to sleep like nothing happened.

 

Wait.

 

What _did_ happen?

 

A light snore from his left draws his attention, and he turns his head to find Kuroo lounging on a couch across the room, head tilted back, mouth slightly open. Kei snickers at the sight, and then-

 

_Whoosh._

 

Suddenly he is sitting up very, very straight and very, very awake. Events from the previous night flood back to him-seducing Kuroo, that awful outfit-color rises to Tsukki's cheeks as he remembers-the intimate moments they had stolen, the kissing, the bruising, the trumpets...

 

Trumpets.

 

Announcing the incoming messenger.

 

Hinata, half-dead, stumbling into his arms with the message that his kingdom had fallen. No more, no less.

 

Tsukishima feels the blood drain from his face.

 

A million questions flood his brain-first, was the king okay? Akiteru? What about the priests, like Sugawara, and the generals--timid Asashi, level Daichi, fierce Nishinoya? Were they alright? Were they even alive?

 

Tsukishima feels himself panicking, heart climbing to his throat, stomach churning, tongue swelling and becoming too big for his mouth, lungs shrinking, becoming too small for their purpose...

 

 _Calm. Calm_. He must remain calm. Assuming the worst case, he was the acting head of the kingdom of Karasuno. Even if every fiber of his being screamed at him to grab a camel and gallop across the desert to find his home, he knew he had to act fast and be smart. Karasuno was a powerful kingdom with many assets--no doubt even supposed allies would turn on them for a chance to fill the power vacuum that was likely left. Not only that, but it would be hard to convince people to join his side when he didn't even know who his enemies were...

 

Enemies. Who had attacked Karasuno? It couldn't have been anyone currently in the Nekoma kingdom-they were all major political figures that a country could not deal to go to war without. To Tsukki's knowledge, most every kingdom in the region had sent a representative, as Nekoma was on good terms with everyone except Shiratorizawa.

 

Ah.

 

Shiratorizawa.

 

Most everyone's enemy, Shiratorizawa controlled a powerful kingdom to the north. They grew their empire by slowly swallowing up weaker territories until an entire kingdom was absorbed. They had been enemies of Karasuno since Tsukishima's grandfather's time, but the past few decades they had remained quiet, seemingly content to expand territory to the east and west. Only a kingdom as large and powerful as Shiratorizawa could deal such a massive blow to Karasuno.

 

With his enemy figured out, Tsukishima could only begin to come up with solutions. 

 

He would need powerful allies, and a force willing to launch a counterattack to take back the kingdom. He had money, sure, but not enough to convince a kingdom to risk men for a no doubt gruesome battle. 

 

Kei looked down at his hands, clenched on his lap in frustration. Lily white skin, unmarred by the callouses or scars that deemed one had lived a hardworking. What could he do? All he had was a title, and a supposed blessing of the gods that seemed altogether inneffective given his current circumstances. What could he-

 

Oh.

 

An idea formed out of the mist that clouded Kei's mind. It was a very, very good idea, and if all went well, he could save his kingdom. It would work perfectly.

 

Kei looked at Kuroo, still asleep on the couch across from him. The devilish handsomeness left his face while he slept, replaced with something softer, more open. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was a disheveled mess.

 

He was the single most beautiful person Kei had ever seen.

 

Tsukishima crossed the room, quietly as he could. His hand reached out, and he allowed it to roam, gently stroking the side of Kuroo's face, his thumb sweeping across soft lips, light as a feather.

 

He leaned down, and kissed the dark haired prince on the forehead. 

 

It was a quiet farewell, but Tsukishima could still hear is own heart break beneath the silence.

 

He straightened and left the room, squaring his shoulders, ready to face his future for the sake of his people.

 

Yes, this plan would work perfectly, if he was willing to give up his heart.

 

\---

 

Tsukishima walked swiftly across courtyards, in a rush to get back to his own section of the compound. If this was to be done, it was to be done quickly. He had almost arrived when he spotted a familiar figure, hunched over in the center of a garden, shoulders shaking.

 

Kei felt his stomach shudder and twist.

 

_Give up your heart. You can't take it where you're going._

 

_Breath in, breath out. Break the ties. Now._

 

 

"Yamaguchi."

 

The shaking stopped, head remaining lowered.

 

"Come here. Now."

 

The small form slowly rose from where he was crouched and proceeded, slowly, to Tsukishima.

 

"Look at me."

 

Tadashi slowly raised his head, and Tsukishima felt his resolve quake and tremble at the sight. Eyed puffy and glassy, tears rolling down his star streaked cheeks. A sob ripped from him, and he launched himself at Tsukshima, wrapping his arms around him tightly, burying his head in the prince's chest.

 

"Tsukki, Tsukki, Tsukki..." Tadashi sobbed, repeating the name like it was his last prayer. The nickname conjured forth images of dark hair and cat-like eyes, and Kei immediately shoved all those feelings way, way down and slammed the lid on the box. _Cut ties, cut ties, do it quick._

 

"Tadashi." Kei grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and pushed him back, holding the sobbing boy at arms length. Suprised by the sudden movement, Yamaguchi quickly quieted and blinked up at Tsukishima, confused and heart, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong when--

 

"Listen to me. You are no longer my servant. You cannot stay with me from here on out. I will ask the masters here in Nekoma to keep you on."

 

Yamaguchi looked as though he had been punched in the stomach, wheezing slightly, opening and closing his mouth with no sound coming out. Tsukishima reached out for the second time that day, cupping his hands around the boy's face, wiping a tear away with his thumb. He could at least allow himself this much, this much of a goodbye.

 

"You must stay strong, Yama. Stay strong for me and the kingdom."

 

Confusion, fear, hurt, and countless other emotions washed over Yamaguchi's face. Just as quickly as he came, Tsukishima stepped back and continued on his way, leaving Yamaguchi in the garden, tears falling silently. He did not try to follow his master.

 

Former master.

 

\---

 

Tsukishima had not even reached the end of the garden when a bored, cool voice stopped him in his tracks.

 

"There was no need to be so harsh, you know."

 

Gold eyes started up at him from behind a delicate, cherry blossom printed fan. The eyes were cold and calculating, and something in them told Tsukishima they knew exactly what he was planning. Terrifying eyes.

 

"It is a good plan." The voice floated up to him, and Tsukishima jerked back slightly, startled by the accuracy of the statement in comparison to his thoughts. "You should go now, before they decide something without you."

 

Tsukishima nodded, turning to hurry off, but not before he caught the small general looking beyond him, to Yamaguchi, eyes softening slightly. Ah. Tsukishima knew that look.

 

"Take care of him for me," he whispered lightly, voice catching, and this time it was Kenma's turn to look startled.

 

Tsukishima hurried away before anything more could be said. He soon reached his room, and called out for his servants.

 

He could tell they, too, had heard the news, as worry and anxiety scrunched their faces, but they dare not say anything.

 

"You," the prince commanded of the nearest one, voice unwavering. A leader must be strong.

 

"Yes sir?" the small girl squeaked.

 

"Fetch my festival robes."

 

Immediate confusion was apparent on the servants faces, but they rushed to do as they were told. The moon prince only wore his festival robes once a year, at the festival thrown in his honor, so the robes were incredibly ornate. They were made of silk, shining white, with layers upon layers of the material, causing Tsukishima to take on an otherworldy look. The outfit included a headpiece, a simple, shining round stone crowning it, as big as a man's hand and set in gold. Fine strings of gold and pearls looped his forehead, neck, wrists, waists, and ankles. Besides being a costly piece, it was an absolutely holy garment, unlike any other in the world.

 

But, well, if you were going to make a statement, that was one way to do it. And Crown Prince Tsukishima needed to make a statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OYA OYA OYA  
> what is tsukki's plan????  
> i know this chapter isn't very long but i have the next piece so i will try to update soon  
> leave me comments pls!!!! see u soon  
> also it is 1 am i am sorry for typos or if things sound a lil weird i did my berry best

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed it!!


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